


Happily Ever After

by missgeevious



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Romantic Comedy, Ryan Reynolds is a 10, Spreadsheets, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23985178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missgeevious/pseuds/missgeevious
Summary: David discovers Patrick's secret spreadsheet.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 84
Kudos: 347





	Happily Ever After

The first time David noticed something weird was going on was the night he dozed off while they were watching You’ve Got Mail. He heard Meg Ryan crying and telling him how much she hoped it was him, how much she _wanted_ it to be him. He hadn’t been sure if he was dreaming or not because there was that one time he’d run into Meg at the Carlton Bar in Cannes and they’d had a few drinks. But then he realized it was the movie dialogue working its way into his brain as he swam through the floaty place between asleep and awake.

As his consciousness bobbed closer to alertness he realized that at some point he had rolled over on Patrick’s lap and buried his face in his stomach. He had his arms snaked around Patrick’s waist and was hugging him like a pillow. He rubbed his face against the soft fabric of his t-shirt contentedly, inhaling Patrick’s smell through a layer of detergent and fabric softener. He wanted more Patrick and less fabric, though, so he started dragging his nose up and down, hoping the shirt would ride up and expose Patrick’s sweet skin. He heard himself make an embarrassing snuffling noise and felt Patrick’s stomach quiver with suppressed laughter.

“What are you doing?”

“Mmphm.” He was mostly awake at this point but his words still felt too clumsy to catch hold of, too heavy on his tongue. He squeezed Patrick tighter and tried using his chin to lift the shirt instead. 

Patrick twitched and laughed softly. “That tickles.” He pressed his thumb against the shell of David’s ear and rubbed his fingers gently through the hair on the back of his head. “Can I help you with something?”

David made a grumpy noise, still not ready to use words, then gave up and let go of Patrick’s waist with one hand so he could tug the troublesome shirt up and out of the way. He felt the heat from Patrick’s skin on his face then and suddenly everything smelled like Patrick, clean and woody, and a little musky. He sighed happily, wrapped his arm around Patrick again, and went back to rubbing his face into his belly. The stubble to skin contact must have been a lot, though, because Patrick yelped and bent forward over David with the force of his laugh. 

Something hard bounced off David’s temple and fell into the space between them. 

“Ow!” David jerked. “What the fuck?” He reached a hand between them to search Patrick’s lap for the offending object. Along the way he discovered that Patrick’s dick had taken an interest in the proceedings and he paused to give it a friendly squeeze, which elicited a pleased hum from its owner, but before distraction could take hold completely the back of his hand bumped against the familiar shape of a phone. He held it up and squinted at the screen, eyes still blurry from sleep. A few words jumped out at him: “love” and “communication” and “believability.” He blinked harder, trying to clear his vision. “What is this?”

Patrick snatched the phone out of his hand and tossed it to the armchair across from them without even looking. “Doesn’t matter, David. It’s bedtime.” 

He blinked up at Patrick, instantly aroused by the firm timbre of his voice and the intense way he was looking at him. “Oh,” he breathed. He swallowed as they stared at one another for a moment longer, then he smirked just a _little_ and with a whisper of brattiness said, “But I’m not tired.”

Patrick took him by the shoulders and lifted him and then pushed him up to a sitting position. David made the breathy, “Oh,” sound again as Patrick stood up. 

“That’s good,” he called over his shoulder as he walked toward the bedroom, “because you won’t be sleeping any time soon.” He was using his _gonna get the money_ voice and he absolutely knew what that voice did to David. 

“Come on. Move your ass.” 

David's entire body lit up in anticipation and he grinned, phone forgotten, and moved his ass.

%%%

The second time it happened they were watching one of his favorite Sandra Bullock vehicles, although he would freely admit that it was Ryan Reynolds’s presence in the movie— and specifically, the presence of a sweaty, mostly nude Ryan in the second act— that gave it the extra nudge it needed to be that night’s movie of choice. Just as they were approaching that particular scene, Patrick reached out and paused the movie and David flapped a hand at him in protest. “Hey!”

“Would you prefer I talk over the movie?”

David arched one eyebrow at him and let it say _incorrect_ on his behalf. He flapped his hand at him again, but this time in a _hurry up and say what you want to say_ way. Fortunately, Patrick was fluent in David and got right to the point.

“What’s the word you told me for the things in stories that are, like… clichés?” He must have seen the beginning of an offended rant blooming on David’s face because he rushed to head it off. “I know that’s the wrong word and it sounds like I’m insulting the movie, but I’m not. It’s just the only word I can think of that seems similar at the moment.”

David pursed his lips but let Patrick’s explanation mollify him. “You mean _trope_ , I think.”

“Yes!” Patrick was happy to have the right word and it made David smile. His handsome husband loved knowing things. “So, like, this movie has a few of them, right?”

David nodded. “The whole thing is basically a Fake Boyfriend story, which is possibly my favorite trope.”

“There’s Only One Bed in this movie, too.”

David was pleased that Patrick was paying this much attention and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Patrick’s temple. “Are you maybe enjoying these movies a little more than you thought you would?”

“Yeah.” The tips of Patrick’s ears had gone a little pink. “I guess I am.” 

David kissed him again and smiled a big, toothy smile. “I’m glad.”

Patrick pressed play on the movie, but after a minute he reached for his phone, and tapped on the screen long enough to distract and annoy David. He paused the movie himself this time. “ _What_ are you doing?”

Patrick jerked guiltily. “Nothing.” He put his phone face down on the arm of the sofa. “Sorry.”

David huffed and reached out to start the movie again, but then stopped. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like that Patrick hadn’t actually answered his question. He didn’t like that Patrick was careful to put his phone screen side down. Patrick had long ago helped David quiet the ugly voices in his head that used to shout at him all the time. The ones that shouted _You’re not good enough_ and _You’re not worth it_ and _No one will love you_ and, more quietly, but far more insidiously, _Everyone leaves._ Patrick had beaten back all that darkness and wrapped him in the light of his love until David grew brave enough to step into the light too and leave the voices to wither and die in the dark. Whatever this was, whatever was going on with Patrick, he knew they were okay. But he didn’t like this feeling he had. Old David would wait and wonder and worry. 

Then he realized he was responding to what felt like Old Patrick behaviors. It had been a while since he’d seen the Patrick who kept secrets, the Patrick who didn’t talk about things, the Patrick who thought ignoring things was an acceptable coping strategy, but he recognized him immediately, and he _really_ didn’t like that. 

He wasn’t Old David anymore and he didn’t like seeing Old Patrick.

“I need you to tell me what’s going with you.” He was careful to keep his voice even. 

Patrick’s eyes snapped to him and concern instantly furrowed his brow. “What?”

“This is the second time you’ve been weird about what’s on your phone and it makes me…” he paused to choose his next word carefully, “... uncomfortable.”

He watched curiously as Patrick’s mouth dropped in shock and then as a deep blush crept over his face. Then he watched as Patrick picked up his phone, unlocked it, and handed it to him. He wasn’t making eye contact, which didn’t make David feel great about what he was going to see.

David took the phone and stared at the screen for a few moments, trying to make sense of what he was looking at because it wasn’t anything like what he expected. “This is a spreadsheet…” he scanned it some more, “...but it’s not a work spreadsheet.” He scrolled around a bit, looking at column headers and the contents of various cells. Then he gasped in recognition. “These are all the movies we’ve watched recently!”

Patrick nodded, face crimson.

Down the left side of the sheet were the names of the last several movies they’d watched. David laughed delightedly as he read some of the column headers across the top with titles like _Compatibility_ and _Believability_ and _Likelihood of Actual HEA_ and _Clichés Used_. He assumed that would be corrected to _Tropes_ now. 

“HEA? As in Happily Ever After?”

Patrick nodded and gave him a bashful grin that was possibly the cutest thing David had ever seen in his life. David flushed with pleasure at this evidence that Patrick actually listened to the things David said, even when he was just ranting about silly romance terminology.

David went back to looking at the column headings, fascinated by Patrick’s choices: _Rotten Tomato Score, Year Released, Leading Man Hotness_. He paused on that column long enough to register that it was a scale of 1 - 10 and Ryan had, of course, scored a 10 for The Proposal. 

“It’s his sarcastic sense of humor that puts him over the top, right?” Patrick had scooted closer to see what David was looking at. 

“Definitely,” David agreed. Then, with a smile, “He reminds me of you a bit.”

Patrick laughed out loud at that. “I assume you mean the sarcasm because my abs have never looked like his and never will.” 

“I like your abs exactly as they are,” David replied automatically and completely truthfully. “Pretty sure I had my face buried in them just the other night.”

Patrick kissed his neck and David could feel his smile pressed there against his skin for an extra moment. Then he put his head on David’s shoulder so they could look at the phone together. 

David pointed at the _David cried y/n_ column and said,"Why does that matter?!" in an insulted voice.

"Because it means it was good. You don't cry if it's not good."

"That must be why I cried my eyes out at our wedding."

Patrick’s face went so fond that David couldn’t even look at it so he leaned over and kissed him instead, slow and lingering, until Patrick reached out and ran a thumb over his cheekbone and broke the kiss to nudge David’s nose with his own. “Our wedding was perfect.”

David hummed in agreement. “And now we’re living our Happily Ever After.” He would feel embarrassed about having said this if it weren’t for the fact that it made his husband absolutely radiate happiness. He loved that he could make Patrick feel so happy that he glowed with it. 

Patrick gestured at the _David cried y/n_ column. "Plus, if I can determine the pattern for what makes you cry, and how hard it makes you cry, then I can be better prepared for each viewing experience. Like, is this going to be a pizza movie or a mall pretzel movie? Will you need cuddling to recover? If so, how much, and for how long?"

David saw that swerve away from sincerity and toward teasing coming from a mile away but he bit down on his smile and squinted at him in mock outrage because that’s what they did. But before he could begin voicing his objections Patrick continued. “Oooh, and, um, I should probably tell you about the hidden column."

David raised his eyebrows and waited.

Patrick took the phone back, unhid the column in question, and showed the screen to David again. The new column was titled _Sex Potential_. David’s eyebrows rose even higher toward his hairline. “And what is this interesting column about?”

“Well, some of these movies put you in a certain mood and I want to be in the _position_ ,” he leaned on that word a little so David wouldn’t miss his joke, “to capitalize on it.”

“You have lost your mind.”

“I lost my mind over you a long time ago, David.”

David put his hands over his face and moaned. “Oh, my god. You have to stop.” But he smiled behind his hands, where Patrick couldn’t see. Then he schooled his face and dropped his hands to make eye contact. “Patrick, why are you studying and categorizing romantic comedies?”

Patrick shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck for a few seconds. David knew he was busy putting the words in order in his head. He recognized this behavior too. Patrick wanted to say what he meant and not leave room to be misunderstood or misinterpreted. Patrick liked when David understood him, and David wanting to understand him made him feel loved, so David waited patiently for him to speak.

“I’m not sure, exactly,” he began. “It started as a list to help me keep track of which ones we watched because, um, I wasn’t actually, uh, paying all that much attention? To the movies? And I knew it mattered to you.”

“Okay, cute,” David said, “but also, I thought you liked these movies too. Or at least some of them.”

“I do! _Now._ But I didn’t always.”

David reached out to rub and scritch at Patrick’s closest shoulder. When Patrick stayed quiet, he slowed his hand into what he hoped was a soothing motion instead. And he waited. Patrick needed to find his words again. David always felt like he had the opposite problem, like he had so many words they all fought each other for the honor of falling out of his mouth first. It had taken him a long time to learn how to resist the urge to fill the silences, to not see them as something worrisome, to just wait for Patrick’s words. 

“I guess… before…” he paused and they had one of those married couple moments of nonverbal communication and David knew he was referring to when he was with Rachel. “Before I thought it was all bullshit, you know? Feeling like you couldn’t live without someone. Feeling like the world would end if you couldn’t be with them.” He reached over and threaded his fingers through David’s and squeezed. His voice turned wet and wobbly. “Knowing that a person was your other half. Knowing they made you feel right.”

David blinked away the tears that suddenly filled his eyes and squeezed Patrick’s hand.

“I’d never felt anything even close to that, and those movies— those movies made me feel like there was something wrong with me, you know? Why didn’t I love Rachel like _that_? Was I… broken? Somehow?” He sat quietly for a few seconds and then continued. “Anyway, I loathed those movies. They made me feel bad. After a while I started refusing to watch them with her. But then—” he smiled and brought David’s hand up to his mouth for a kiss. “Then _you_ wanted to watch those movies with me and it was totally different because it turned out _you_ were the person I couldn’t live without. You were the person that made me feel right. I finally understood. I wasn’t broken. I just hadn’t met you yet.”

A small sob escaped David before he could clap a hand over his mouth to hold it in and Patrick laughed through his own gathering tears. 

“Yeah. So, now?” Patrick shrugged. “Now I like watching them. I like watching them with _you_. I like it a lot.” His smile turned bashful again and his cheeks were pink. “I like figuring out which parts I like best and guessing which parts you like best. I like recognizing us in the stories sometimes. I started keeping track of the things I noticed.” His blush deepened. “Next thing I knew, my little list of which movies we had watched grew into this monster spreadsheet and I felt kind of silly about it so I kept it private. That’s it. That’s the big secret.”

David grabbed Patrick’s face and kissed him, hard. 

Patrick made a surprised “mmphm” noise and then wrapped his arms around David and kissed him back. 

After a few moments David shifted and climbed onto Patrick’s lap, knees on either side of his hips. “What did the hidden sex column have to say about tonight’s movie?”

“Mmmm,” Patrick dragged his lips up the side of David’s neck and tugged at his earlobe with his teeth. “Based on our past viewings of The Proposal, mostly naked Ryan Reynolds means I’m definitely getting lucky.”

David rocked his ass back and forth on Patrick’s rapidly hardening length and grinned down at him. 

“But first, David,” he said very seriously, “let me tell you about the pivot tables connected to the spreadsheet.”

David stopped moving. “Mmm, no thank you. Maybe later.”

“It’s really interesting, though.”

David clambered off Patrick’s lap and stood up. “Is it, though?

“It is. For instance, did you know that if a movie has a Fake Boyfriend trope it’s automatically 75% more likely to have an Only One Bed trope too?”

David pursed his lips and stared down at Patrick. “Well, there’s _only one bed_ I’m interested in right now and if you’re smart you’ll join me there.”

He walked a few more steps and then called over his shoulder. “Come on, Patrick. Move your ass.”

Patrick moved his ass.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to vivianblakesunrisebay for the beta and the always great suggestions.  
> Thanks to smallumbrella for the cheerleading and enthusiasm.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Happily Ever After](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27028699) by [petrodobreva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrodobreva/pseuds/petrodobreva)




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